Five times Casey was an Awesome Boyfriend
by Daria234
Summary: What happens when Devon decides to give Casey some dating tips about his relationship with Chuck?  Chuck/Casey slash, with sex, a little angst, a little schmoop, missions, violence, humor, and truth serum. Don't like, don't read.


Title: 5 times John Casey was an Awesome boyfriend and didn't even realize it  
Pairing/Characters: Chuck/Casey  
Rating/Category: M/slash  
Prompt: Awesome dating tips

Note: Written for smallfandomfest on livejournal

"Dear Casey,

Hey, bro. First of all, I know you don't like it when people get all in your business. But people like Ellie and me? We're fixers. Maybe it's a doctor thing, I don't know. But we see people we care about (Chuck, you, etc.), and we like to talk about it. Get things out in the open, not let the feelings fester.

Yes, that's right. We're fixers _and_ talkers. And you're not. A talker, that is. But you're definitely a fixer, an international badass you-know-what level of fixer, so I know that you will take this letter in the fixer spirit in which it was intended, despite our last conversation re:your relationship with Chuck, where you told me to shut up before you knock me out by throwing the oven at me. I had assumed you meant the toaster oven, but now that I think about it, I'm not sure. You kind of freak me out sometimes, dude.

But Chuck seems to really like you, and it's pretty obvious that you feel the same way. So take it from someone who knows how to treat a Bartowski: if you want Chuck, you're going to have to go for it. Seriously, dude, Ellie and I are sick of all the awkward breakfast table conversations where you and Chuck pretend that you spent the night to play videogames (not fooling anyone, dude), or you pretend that you don't really care about each other and you don't have any expectations of each other and you aren't totally in love with each other. Because that is not awesome, dude. You two are not fooling anyone but each other, and it is just not awesome AT ALL. So if you want to close the deal, you need to step it up, bro.

So here are a few tips on being in a relationship. I know you are a handsome man, and extremely muscular, and overall, I am very impressed with your physique. Therefore, please do not think that I am suggesting that you lack experience in the sensual and/or erotic department. But for twenty years you have been busy saving the world, and so I think maybe you don't realize that grunting and frowning and threatening are not considered good dating strategies. I am sure they are excellent espionage strategies. But not so awesome for dating. Maybe it was different when you were young, but I doubt it. No offense dude, but I think there's a reason your longest relationships have been with your gun and with your car.

So here are just a few little tips from (hopefully) your future bro-in-law. It's obvious you're into Chuck, and he's into you, and if you could stop dancing around it, you two could make each other really happy. Good luck, man! I totally believe in you, dude!

**How to be an awesome boyfriend.**

**1. Listen to what the other person is saying. Don't just pretend to listen. Because that is not awesome. Really listen, even when it's hard, and try to see things from their perspective.**

_Casey calculated how much oxygen Chuck would have left in the container. He started to feel his adrenaline rise as he realized that the mission was going from 'not-exactly-according-to-plan' to 'major-clusterfuck-of-epic-proportion.' The coms wouldn't work through the thick-walled shipping containers, and now the container with Chuck inside had just been dumped in a warehouse with thousands of others. The banging of the loading and unloading made it hard to hear anything, and if either of them made any truly obvious noises (like, say, Casey shooting up the ceiling to clear the space), they would be immediately surrounded by the ample security force. He wandered around the warehouse, trying to recall any distinguishing marks Chuck's container had, and trying NOT to think about Chuck running out of air. He should have another few minutes, Casey knew. Unless Chuck panicked and started breathing heavy. In which case he might be running out of air right this second, lungs straining for molecules of oxygen that weren't there._

Casey wanted to kick himself for letting this happen. On the mission before this one, Chuck had gone undercover as a thief and had to spend 48 hours hiding in a miniscule crawlspace. When the mission was done, Chuck said that he had almost freaked out, that he had never felt so claustrophobic in his life, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to stay in small places any more. He knew that Chuck was saying that he needed to talk about it, that maybe he needed some more time before the next op.

But Casey had just answered, "Spies don't get to be claustrophobic, Chuck." He hoped that Chuck would hear 'Do what it takes to get over this, Chuck,' and not 'Pretend you're not claustrophobic and then mess up a mission.' But he really should have checked.

And now Casey was wandering around in warehouse-issued coveralls, striding around like the world's most intense storage employee, imagining Chuck, locked in the shipping container, terrified, hyperventilating, sucking up all the air, gasping because Casey COULD NOT FIND HIM AND-

Casey willed himself to calm down. His instincts told him to get out the heavy ordnance and just not stop shooting, because THAT was the kind of shit he could do with bells on. But he closed his eyes and listened, tried to hear if Chuck was calling him, using some codeword maybe. But all he could hear was the clang and the bang of containers being shoved, dropped or turned, that dull metallic-on-concrete sound again and again, random and useless and so damn loud.

But then... a pattern in the clanging. A rhythm, some kind of music. Easy to mistake for the motley of sounds in the warehouse, but once noticed, obviously a signal amid the noise.

Casey opened his eyes, followed it to a corner that was fortunately out of sight of the warehouse workers. As he neared it, he felt a wave of relief swell inside of him, and right before he pried opened the container door, he was surprised to find that he actually recognized the tune being banged out by Chuck's feet against the container wall.

As the door flew open to reveal a smiling Chuck, Casey kept his face neutral and asked, "Why the Indiana Jones themesong?"

(The tension in his forehead said, 'I wasn't sure if I would find you.')

Chuck answered, "I figured out from the noise that they brought me here. I figured big warehouse, tons of containers, appropriate soundtrack choice. Thanks for getting me out, buddy.'

(Chuck's wink told Casey he was already thinking of ways to thank him later).

"Container's smaller than it looks from the outside," Casey said gruffly.

(The tightness in his jaw said, 'Were you scared? I was scared that you would be scared.')

"No. I knew you would come for me."

(Chuck's eyes said 'I love that you care' even as his smirk said 'I know you get all uncomfortable when I say how much I trust you')

Casey just grunted.

(Chuck knew this one - it meant 'I will catch you every time,' and 'Don't ever scare me like that again, moron,' all at once ).  


**2. Say what you feel. Don't let your negativity weigh you down, bro, get it out there and talk about it! Secrets are horrible for a relationship.**

_"Just blowing off steam," was the magic phrase that made it okay. Anything they did, even anything they said while they were doing it, got cleaned up, erased, made to disappear like the bloodstains of the people who came after them, or the traces of evidence that were burned away by masked nameless teams that Casey called in._

"I love you," Chuck would say right before he came.

"You're drunk, Bartowski," Casey would answer right before gripping him tight to finish him off.

Chuck would catch his breath, mumble, "Yeah, that must be it," and stumble back to his own bed to sleep the rest of the night alone.

It was the same way after a job, the adrenaline pushing through their bodies, reminding them that nothing lasts forever and to enjoy what they could when they could before it all fell to bloody worthless pieces. The shoves, the pushes, the hands roaming everywhere, gripping tight. The heat, the sweat, the way their eyes locked and for just a couple of seconds it felt like they were already inside each other anyway, like Chuck could read the need in Casey's face, the pain and memory and thrill of the job all in one, and Casey could look at Chuck and know, could really trust, that whatever Casey did, Chuck could give as good as he got.

After Chuck had to burn an asset he genuinely liked. After Casey had to say no to someone he once loved. After one or both of them almost died. They would fall into a bed, or just start with Casey holding Chuck up against the wall, his lanky legs wrapped around Casey's waist, with Casey's arms bulging as they held him up, keeping him raised even as Chuck lost coordination, as he rode Casey deeper and harder, back slamming against a concrete wall, his motions wresting grunts and groans from Casey's mouth like a thief going back to the same treasury again and again and again. But after, they would say, aloud or with their actions, that it was just blowing off steam. They would each promise themselves to find someone else to fuck them senseless next time it became necessary. Since that's all it was. Responding to the body's needs after a tough day: their mutual release valve, conveniently located.

Until the truth serum.

They worked together well now, subdued the target, got to a field office in time to get the antidote before it killed them.

But then there were those five minutes alone in the medical quarters, waiting for the field doctor to retrieve the dosage and prepare it in the lab.

It was one thing after another, each revelation followed by either a look of "Yeah, I said it, so what?" or, in most cases, "I did NOT want to say that, and it's totally your fault we got truth serumed and I HAD TO SAY THAT!"

"I'm totally nervous I'll say something I don't want to, Casey."

"You're nervous? You're a big marshmallow of expressed emotion. Why are you nervous?"

"Yeah like you do such a good job hiding that you're totally traumatized by your past. Wait, Casey, I didn't mean that! I mean I did but I didn't mean to say it aloud! Crap! I hate this!"

"Shut up, Bartowski!"

"I don't like it when you say to shut up!"

"Yes you do."

"No I don't!"

"You do when I'm fucking you."

"But not when we're just talking! And don't act like you're Mr. Toppy, I know you love it when I hurt you."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with a little rough stuff."

"Yeah, but I can't ever ask you to be rough with me."

"I'm plenty rough with you!"

"You could do more!"

"You're not satisfied in bed? No one has ever not been-"

"Of course I'm satisfied Casey. But that doesn't mean we can't try new stuff."

"What's the one thing you want to try that we haven't."

"I want you to fuck me without kicking me out of your bed. Plus, nipple play."

"I don't kick you out of bed! Though, good call on the nipple play."

"You totally kick me out of bed! You won't even say you love me during sex!"

"It doesn't count when you say it DURING sex!"

"Of course it does! Can't you say it?"

"No!"

"Why not!"

"Because, moron, any minute you're going to realize what I am and leave!"

"I'm not leaving unless you make me! You're the one who keeps talking about how it might be easier if you got re-assigned. And what are you so afraid I'll find out about you?"

"That I like killing bad guys. And sometimes I kill people even though they're good guys. And I almost killed you, Chuck, I was ordered to early on, and I almost did it but the fake Intersect blew up and the hit got called off, and you would have been dead because of me, Chuck!"

"No shit! John Casey shoots people, bug fucking surprise. Yeah, I hate myself for not caring, I hate myself for the fact that it doesn't bother me any more, but do you think that's news to me? Your file is in the Intersect, dumbass, and even if it weren't, do you think I've learned nothing? There is nothing about you I can't handle! I got used to it all back when I was with Sarah!"

"Yeah, how about the fact that I want to punch you every time you mention Sarah!"

"You like Sarah!"

"Better than I like you most days! She's not a moron! But I sure as hell don't like being compared to her. Are you thinking about her every time we go on a mission, every time we fuck after?"

"That's absurd, Casey, you two are nothing alike in bed! If anything, I'm comparing you to Bryce!"

"What!"

"Hey, you don't get to be upset, it's the serum!"

"Fine, Chuck, what's the one thing you don't want me to know about YOU?"

"I worry that if you can't say you love me, then you're too emotionally damaged to stay with me."

"Well I worry that you're not cut out for this job, you still care WAY too much, and the first time we accidentally kill a civilian or fail to save some kid, I'm going to walk in the door and see you've put a bullet in your head!"

"Yeah, I'm scared of that too, asshole, that's why you can't leave!"

"Who's leaving? The only way I'm leaving you is if someone pries away my dead hands from your body!"

The door swung open and both men looked at it. "Gentlemen, the serum antidote is ready... Why do you both look so agitated?"

**3. Try new things together. Share new experiences, keep it interesting. Bro, it's easy to fall into a rut; try surprising your partner with a little gift or a surprise kiss, or even a little something fun in the supply closet. Variety is the spice of life.**

_After the truth serum argument, they made a conscious effort to bring new things to their sex life. The other stuff they silently agreed not to mention again._

They had done it hanging from the ceiling in a not-comfortable harness. They had done it several times on a roof during stakeouts that went slow and long. They tried it in public while undercover at a leather club; that one, Chuck got off on but decided not to repeat. They tried it in the ocean and in pools, plenty of times in the shower and once in a bubble bath. They tried whipped cream and honey and chocolate cake smeared across their bodies, they tried hot wax and feathers and silk scarves and nipple clamps. They tried ice cubes and vibrators and paddles and canes. They roleplayed as Strider and Boromir, then as General Patton and General Grant, then as a time travelling resistance leader and the terminator who loves him, then as rival senseis, and then, less successfully, as members of a Klingon indie band, then as two assault rifles who meet and fall in love. They tried toys, and then using ordinary objects as toys. They tried slow, sensual sex, and they really liked it, but it didn't stop them from adrenaline-fueled hard and fast wall-fucking or shower sex or any of the rest.

They also tried to sleep in the same bed. That worked too.

**4. Push comes to shove, the relationship comes before work. I know this is hard, bro, given your line of work. By which obviously I just mean working at an electronics store, because, bro, what else could I possibly mean? Seriously, though - he comes first. The job comes second. It has to be that way, bro.**

_The first time Chuck stops sleeping with Casey is after Casey sends an assassin off a high-rise ledge._

Chuck sees it happen and yells, "Casey! We needed him! He had intel on the Ring operatives that got away!"

Casey shrugs. As if he doesn't owe Chuck an explanation. Not as a partner at work, and certainly not for any other reason.

Chuck doesn't speak to him besides for the job for a while after that. Chuck gets how it happened - he was the one who interrogating the man. The assassin came after him, Chuck stopped him, and the man said that he had insiders high up in the government and would get off, he would make sure every rogue agent in the hemisphere would know that Chuck's brain had their secrets and should be tortured out of him. Chuck would be a target like he never had before, the man had laughed.

And Casey shoved past Chuck and threw the assassin off the ledge.

It wasn't like Casey, Chuck knew, to give up a source of needed info. But he understood.

He also knew that his silence was hurting Casey. It was playing into all Casey's fears, most likely.

But it wasn't even that Chuck couldn't get over what Casey had done.

It was that, when it happened, Chuck's first thought had been about the knowledge that was lost.

Not about the body. Not about the screams from bystanders below who had seen the falling man, rushing from the sky. Not about a human being who was doing something horrible but was still a living human person, and now he wasn't.

It was about the info. Chuck was all about the lost information.

He wasn't prepared to learn that about himself.

He wasn't in the mood to be comforted.

It wasn't until Ellie pushed him into therapy, and he managed to talk about all the things he held in, that he was able to go back to Casey.

He told him, "I've been an ass. But it was never about you."

Casey just grunted and rolled his eyes. But he moved over on his bed to make room.

**5. Tell them you love them as much and as often as you can.**

_Chuck never actually gets Casey to say it. He even stops saying it himself to avoid Casey's discomfort._

They find other ways to communicate.

Chuck helps him pick out the perfect gift for his daughter's birthday. First, Casey wants to get her a car with bulletproof windsheld glass. Then, next visit, Alex hints to Chuck that she doesn't feel comfortable accepting huge gifts yet; apparently Casey had none to subtly called her up for no reason but to casually wonder if she knew how to drive stick. Then Casey wants to get her a pink teddy bear, but Chuck convinces him that will skew a little young. Casey sees the logic in this and wants to get her a gun, but Chuck persuades him to buy her a locket. Casey gives a delicate gold locket to her, in a velvet box and also manages to bring, without Chuck noticing, a gun wrapped in a purple and yellow floral wrapping paper. She grins and loves them both, wearing the necklace proudly as she shoots the center of her practice target on her very first try.

Chuck also learns to talk to Casey's houseplant, to leave Casey alone when he needs to be alone, to not demand Casey talk about it after a nightmare, to buy Casey's favorite brand of wax for his car, and to stand his ground when they got mad at each other, growling back at Casey to make sure they worked through it before it became too big a problem.

Casey finally figures out where his hands should go when they're not having sex. A hand on the shoulder when Chuck needs reassurance, a hand on the hip when they're sleeping, a quick touch on the arm when he leaves the room (less showy than a kiss on the cheek). Hands and arms wrapped around Chuck when he needed it, without making Chuck ask every time. Hand wrapped in Chuck's hand as they sat watching bad movies, Chuck's head leaning on his shoulder like they were normal people, like they were real people.

Hands still, at his side, NOT threatening to kill Jeff and Lester even when they deserved it.

Hands bringing Chuck's awful cooking to his lips until he actually started to sort of like it.

Hands that aren't always empty or clenched. Sometimes holding tickets for a vacation that Chuck never believed he would take. Sometimes holding but not hurting a bad guy that Chuck preferred not to beat senseless for some reason. Sometimes carrying a videogame for Morgan and Chuck to try, sometimes, holding a bag from a specialty grocery with the ingredient that Ellie needed and Chuck had been too tired to remember, sometimes holding a book that Chuck would like and Casey wouldn't, one that Chuck would read aloud from in their bed. Sometimes a hand dragging Chuck to make love somewhere, so his hands would have the chance to communicate in the way they did best.

Casey learned to say a lot of things without really saying them.

Remember, Casey: you already are on your way to being an awesome boyfriend! You're smart and protective and while I haven't noticed it, Chuck seems to think you have a sense of humor. That's a good start! Just make sure you continue to grow and work toward further awesomocity. Good luck, bro!"

* * *

"What are you reading?" Chuck asked, amused to see Casey staring at a letter in Devon's handwriting.

"Nothing."

What followed was this:

A paper shoved in a pocket. An angry glare warning Chuck not to ask again.

A smirk on Chuck's mouth. Like he enjoys the challenge.

Then a flurry of movement.

Then Casey protesting that the government did not invest millions in Intersect technology so Chuck could invade his boyfriend's privacy.

Then: "Did you just call me your boyfriend?"

Casey sighed. Chuck had already started reading.

When he was done, he looked up at Casey. He smiled as he asked, "Did you really threaten Devon with an oven?"

Casey grunted. The grunt said, "It was the closest appliance at the time."

"So... why didn't you want me to see this?"

Casey grunted again, and for once Chuck couldn't decide what it meant.

"Devon doesn't... I mean, what works for my sister and him is great. For them. But the thing is, you already are an awesome boyfriend."

"Like I need you to tell me that, " he answered, though maybe, a little, he did. Casey's lips twitched up and he leaned in for a long kiss, warm and slow.

When they were done, Chuck smiled at him. He said, "I'm surprised you didn't maim Awesome with this piece of paper, actually. You being so good at taking advice and all.

"Thought about it," Casey grinned.

"Maybe I should write Devon a list. How not to piss off John Casey."

"I really don't think you're qualified, Bartowski. You've been a pain in my ass for years."

A big smile. Impossibly lush. "Yeah, I love you too, Casey."

"I know... Back at you."

Chuck's eyes wrinkled up as his smile grew even more. He leaned up for another kiss, and this time it was even better. Lighter, somehow, the seed of something new. It was a really awesome kiss.


End file.
